Part 5 (1/2)
”I cannot understand,” Rutherford was saying, ”how such a style of beauty, so delicate and refined you know, could ever exist in such surroundings.”
”She is a mystery,” added Houston, ”and unless I am greatly mistaken, she has a nature as sensitive and refined as her face.”
”You are right, Mr. Houston,” replied Miss Gladden, ”she possesses a refinement of nature that is wonderful; and not only that, she has a brilliant intellect if she could only have advantages, and notwithstanding all the difficulties and obstacles with which she has had to contend, she has already acquired a fair education, is remarkably well informed and a good conversationalist.”
A few moments later, Lyle was aroused from her revery by a familiar voice calling her, and coming down stairs, found Miss Gladden awaiting her.
”You runaway!” she exclaimed, ”why have you been hiding when you should have been helping me entertain the new guests?”
”I didn't think you needed any help,” replied Lyle, brightly.
”You never made a worse mistake in your life,” said Miss Gladden, leading the way out on the porch. ”I have been trying to tell these gentlemen something about this country around here, and I have only succeeded in betraying my own ignorance.”
Both gentlemen greeted Lyle pleasantly, and Houston rose and gave her his chair with a grave, gentle courtesy which was new to her, and which she was quick to observe and appreciate. For some time they chatted of the surrounding country, Lyle telling them where the finest scenery, the best hunting and fis.h.i.+ng and the pleasantest picnic grounds were to be found.
”About a quarter of a mile from here,” she said, ”in Strawberry gulch is a small canyon that has been fitted up for tourists and excursionists, and every summer numerous camping parties come out from Silver City for a few days or weeks. There is a fine lake at the head of the canyon, a boat house, and a good supply of boats, tents, and almost everything needed for camp life.”
”Have there been any camping parties yet?” asked Houston.
”Not yet,” replied Lyle. ”It is too early; they usually begin coming in July; we are likely to have snow-storms out here in the mountains yet.”
”Snow-storms!” they all exclaimed; ”What!” said Miss Gladden, ”after such warm weather as this?”
”Oh, yes,” said Lyle, ”this is only the early warm weather we always have in May, but it will be much colder again before summer really begins in earnest; though the weather is never so severe here as in the gulches farther up the mountains.”
”It seems to me,” said Rutherford, ”I've heard of the greatest number of 'gulches' out here, and some of them have the most remarkable names; very original, certainly.”
”Their names are mostly indicative of their early history,” Lyle answered; ”there are a number of them in this vicinity,--Last Chance gulch, Poor Man's gulch, Lucky gulch, b.l.o.o.d.y gulch, and so on.”
”Has this gulch where we are, any such euphonious t.i.tle?” inquired Miss Gladden.
”This one has two names, equally euphonious and equally historical; it is now called Spotted Horse gulch, but years since it was known as Dead Man's gulch.”
”That sounds cheerful!” commented Miss Gladden.
”Is there a ghost story connected with the gulch, Miss Maverick?”
inquired Houston.
”Yes,” said Lyle, ”several of them, for the miners are mostly very superst.i.tious. Years ago, when there were no well developed mines here, only a few prospects, a man who had just sold one of the properties, was murdered for his money, about half way between here and the mines, where the road is so narrow and pa.s.ses under the overhanging rocks. He rode a spotted horse, and from the indications when he was found a few days after, he must have made a desperate fight, for both he and the horse were shot several times. Ever since, it has been said that the spotted horse goes up and down the gulch at night, sometimes alone, and sometimes with his rider, and so the gulch received its name.”
”Is that story still believed here?” asked Houston.
”More or less,” replied Lyle. ”There is just enough faith in it, that, excepting Jack,” and she nodded slightly to Miss Gladden, ”there is not a miner in camp who could be hired to pa.s.s through that part of the gulch at midnight, for fear of seeing the phantom horse and his rider.”
”Possibly,” said Miss Gladden, ”it would be well for us to adjourn for the night, or we may have a glimpse of the phantoms; it must be after ten o'clock.”
”After ten, impossible!” exclaimed Rutherford, springing to his feet; ”I beg your pardon, ladies, for having detained you so long; I never dreamed it was so late.”